the plant and the canned
product on the floor as sufficient security for a temporary loan of
three thousand dollars?"

Rock nodded. After a moment's silence he said: "Then there is another
thing. This is a time to speak plainly. Otherwise I would make no
mention of it. But as you are seeking a favor at the hands of this bank,
it is my duty to inform you that we do not wish to countenance or
encourage, in any way, your policy of stirring up trouble with our alien
population."

Gregory rose angrily.

"There is no use of my taking up your time or mine any further," he
said. "My business is my own. And while we're on the subject I'll say
that I intend to run it as I please. Neither myself nor my men are
seeking trouble with Mascola's foreigners. But I'll tell you here and
now that we are prepared to fight, if need be, for what the law says we
can have. We want only a square deal, Mr. Rock, and you can take it from
me we are going to get it."

Walking out of the bank president's office Gregory observed a familiar
figure leaning idly against one of the grated wickets. And though the
man was dressed in the extreme of fashion, he had no difficulty in
recognizing him. It was Leo Bandrist, the lord of El Diablo. Gregory
returned the islander's nod and hurried to the street. As he walked to
the cannery he found it hard to concentrate his thoughts on the problem
of raising the desired funds. Rock was a royal old hypocrite. Of that he
was sure now. The financier had used his influence among the jobbers to
some purpose. He had knocked him through his local paper. And now he was
telling him, almost threatening him, to stay away from El Diablo. His
mind flashed again to Bandrist. What brought the man to Rock's bank?
Business, no doubt. But what kind? Was Rock backing Bandrist? Were the
two men in cahoots with Mascola's gang? If so, for what purpose?

The questions multiplied with astonishing rapidity. When Gregory arrived
at the cannery he had decided upon a definite course of action. He would
wire Farnsworth, the estate's attorney, to sell his bonds at a sacrifice
if need be. They should bring enough, added to his own personal account,
to pay for the equipment he desired. After that, he'd go to Diablo and
call Rock's bluff, whatever it was.

It was late that evening before he received an answer from the lawyer.
Farnsworth had regarded the instructions of his client as sheer idiocy
and had taken no pains to conceal the fact. But